a table. She’s wearing a green sweater with little pearl buttons up the front, and a gray wool skirt and tights, with a matching forest-green scarf around her head.
Everything in me loves everything in her. Every day, she dresses with care and attention, putting on jewelry and makeup, refusing to let cancer take away her femininity.
“Very pretty.” I gesture to her outfit.
“Thanks.” She smoothes her skirt down. Her hands are trembling slightly.
Wariness flares inside me. I glance at the notebook, remembering that she’d brought it home from the hospital.
“Am I interrupting you?” Liv asks.
“No.” I push away from my desk and turn to face her. “What’s going on?”
She hesitates, her teeth coming down on her full lower lip. I want to wrap her up, fold myself around her, take her to an island, a fairy forest, a secret garden. Away from doctors, hospitals, surgery, drugs.
She comes closer, reaching out to pick up a loop of string from my desk. She twists it around her fingers, something bittersweet appearing in her eyes.
“I never did learn how to make string figures,” she remarks, making a cat’s cradle before unlooping the string.
“I can still teach you.”
“One day.” Liv drops the string back on my desk and glances at me. “Dean, I need to talk to you about something.”
My heart starts beating too fast. “Okay.”
“I read about this in a lot of the breast-cancer books.” She paces a few feet away, her features shadowed. “And when I was in the hospital, I couldn’t help thinking about our estate planning, the next-of-kin paperwork…I’ve actually been thinking about it for a while now and…well, we have to discuss this.”
She pulls a chair closer and sits down in front of me, reaching out to put her hand on my knee. “I want you to try not to get upset.”
Oh, no. Fear claws at my chest. I grip the arms of my desk chair and nod.
“Okay.”
Liv takes a breath, seeming to steel herself as her hand tightens on my knee.
“Dean,” she says. “I know everyone feels positive and hopeful about my treatment, and I do too. So this isn’t meant to be morbid or anything, but since we know the cancer has spread and that it’s an aggressive type…and we won’t know until the scans if it’s taken root somewhere else in my body…I think it’s important for us to talk about what could happen if things take a turn for the worse.”
Terror floods me like black oil, thick and impenetrable. I look past Liv’s shoulder at the opposite wall and shake my head.
“No.”
“Dean.”
“No.” The word snaps out of me, and I reflexively shove her hand away. “No fucking way.”
“Dean, please.” Her voice trembles. “It’s been impossible for me not to think about this. It’s the first thing I thought of when I heard the word malignant, and then the surgery and being in the hospital for the infection…I’ve spent the past week writing everything down and working up the courage to talk to you. It’s not easy, but we need to talk. Please don’t shut me out.”
Holy fucking shit.
I rest my elbows on my knees and grip the sides of my head, inhaling a few deep breaths, trying not to think about what she’s telling me. Black spots swim in front of my eyes.
The chair scrapes against the floor as Liv moves closer to me. Her warm hand slides around to the back of my neck, her knees touch mine, and then she presses her forehead against the top of my head.
“I need you to know this,” she says. “It’s more than just making sure our wills are up to date and that we have all our health care plans in place. The fact is that we don’t know what’s going to happen. We don’t know yet if the cancer is in my lungs or my bones. And even if I didn’t have cancer, this is something you have to know.”
“Liv—” Her name breaks in my throat.
“Dean.” She takes a breath, tightening her hand on the back of my neck. “If something happens to me, whenever it happens, my half of the café goes to Allie. I don’t want a funeral, but maybe there could be a little memorial at the café. No flowers, but donations to the Historical Society in Nicholas and Bella’s names. Kelsey already knows she’s in line to help Bella with girl-related stuff, and if the chemo doesn’t work or we find out the cancer has spread even more, I have ideas to